


When the cold of winter comes

by Elany



Category: Slavic Mythology & Folklore
Genre: Christmas Fluff, I just snorted at that tag, Just Roll With It, Loneliness, M/M, Pre-Slash, Santa Claus/Dedek Mraz, Santa Claus/Grandpa Frost, also don't question it too much, this is all Susana's fault, this is as Christmas-y as something could possibly get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elany/pseuds/Elany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eternal life is a life of loneliness. Until it is not.<br/>or<br/>The One In Which Your Favourite Legends Are Real, Old And Covet Company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the cold of winter comes

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and a happy New year!

They didn't meet often. In fact, it was pure luck they ever met at all. Both of them knew how much the humans cherished their traditions, how much they loved their habits, and it wasn't in their interest to mess them up. So once a year, each of them would set out to travel the world, bringing happiness to the children all over, alone. It was a lonely journey, yet so it must be, for so it is written.  
And that is how a cold winter night, on the 25th of December 2014, was their first meeting in years. As all of their previous meetings, as rare as they were, this one had been purely accidental. Ded Moroz would claim till the end of his long life that it was all due to a mistake on Santa Claus' part, but neither of them thought the reason particularly important. What was important, is that they met at all, and how it changed their relationship forever.

The visit to the little yellow house in the suburbs of Prague was a scheduled exception for Ded Moroz, one of those clients who expected his visit on Christmas instead of New year's eve. As for Santa, well, he had entered the house purely out of habit, as most every house was expecting him anyway, yet after realizing his error he just couldn't help himself and decided to leave a little something for the children there as well, were they on his list or not. He was one of the Three Good Men, after all!

Pair of socks, some sweets, nothing his elves could chide him for giving away and-- were those footfalls? Santa turned around with the speed wholly unexpected of a man of his girth, quickly remembering to mask his presence with an invisibility field. It would do no good for children to see him, especially those who don't even believe in him.   
And indeed, when he looked towards the entrance of the room, a figure stood there, motionless. Yet it didn't take more than a passing glance to figure that whoever it was, they were no child. Due to the darkness, however, he was unable to make out who it was. He might be able to turn invisible, but night sight was a forte of wholly different creatures.

"Greetings, old friend." A heavy Slavic accent brought those words to him from the doorway. The realization had hit Santa in the matter of milliseconds, bringing an enormous grin to his face.

"Grandpa Frost! This is truly a Christmas miracle!" A good natured scoff came from the other man as he stepped into the soft light emitting from the myriad of little bulbs that were hung all around the room. 

"Please, don't call me that. And you can turn the invisibility off, it's not a good look on you." 

If this was their first meeting, Santa would have taken Ded Moroz as a surly old man. In fact, he did just that the first time they met, decades and decades ago. As it was, though, he just let out a merry laugh, not afraid of poking the bear with a stick some more.  
"Grandpa, you mean? Isn't that what you go by these days? It suits an old man like you."

"I am not that old, you know"

Santa sent him a mischievous look, raising his brows at the silver haired man, amused with the way crinkles lined his childish expression. Ded Moroz relented with a sigh.   
"No older than you are, at least."

Santa let out a sigh of his own, sitting down on a nearby couch and patting the seat beside him. "No older than me, indeed. I'll give you that at least, Frost." 

With a huff that was near comical for a man his age, Ded Moroz leaned his cane onto the armrest and sat down next to Santa, stretching his old legs, making his knees crack loudly. If he was to be completely honest, it felt good to rest for a bit and the company, well the company was as good as it could get, he wasn't about to complain. Any company was better than no company at all, but he would be lying if he were to claim that he wasn't glad that he had run into Santa, of all the possibilities.

"It's late already. Or early, depending on how you take it. I assume you're nearly done already?" He had asked Santa, closing his eyes and relaxing more into the incredibly comfortable couch they had claimed for the moment. "I'm practically finished myself."

"Hm, yes, yes. I started with Asia this time, went through Australia to the Americas and I've only got a little bit of Europe still to go. Then Africa and I'm done for the year." He looked at his friend, who, despite having much less work to do that night than he did, had seemed ready to fall asleep right there on this cosy sofa in the middle of Czech Republic. As a whole, he seemed more tired than last time he saw him, a weight of something other than years pressing on the immortal being. It made him furrow his brows with worry, wondering if he himself looked as... lonely, as his friend did.   
"Tell me, Frost, how has life been treating you lately? My elves have been giving me more trouble in the past years than ever before, Winter take them! Must be good not having the little yobs around."

Ded Moroz opened his eyes again, smiling a little smile that lacked any warmth it should have held. "Such luck indeed. Having nobody to annoy me, talk too loudly, to bring some noise into my home. Having other beings around would be...most unpleasant, I am sure. But then again, I wouldn't know much about that, would I."  
Turning his head to the only other occupant of the room, he almost grimaced at the unimpressed look the other man was giving him. He knew full well what Santa had been getting at, and apparently they were done beating around the bush. He sighed and turned away.

"It's lonely, you know it is. Why make me say it?"

At that, Santa finally smiled again, leaning back into to the backrest more heavily, his shoulder now brushing Ded Moroz'. Legends could talk all they wanted, but the man was just as warm as most being would be and his presence felt so, so good.  
"You know what humans say, admittance is the first step to rec-"

"Please don't say it." 

"First step to recovery." Santa finished, paying the other man no heed, humour seeping back into his voice. Seeing the other's expression starting to match his own, both wearing soft smiles, he gave Ded Moroz' hand a few light pats. Yet when the time came for him to move his hand away, something stalled it and instead he slowly placed it over the other mans own hand. Neither of them had said anything for a short while, the silence around them as thick as the smell of cinnamon wafting in the air, yet also just as pleasant to them.

As Santa started to feel that the time for them to continue with their nightly errands was soon approaching, a deep rooted sadness made him ask aloud the question that's being going through his mind.

"What do you think happens if Santa and Grandpa Frost were to meet in January? Or, say, June?"

"Doomsday, probably." Retorted Ded Moroz in the same heartbeat. Yet a moment later he leaned more heavily into Santa's shoulder and turned his head to face him fully, one corner of his mouth turning up in a small, barely visible smile. "Or maybe nothing at all. Who knows, we've never tried it."

Santa's expression filled with mirth he hadn't felt in a long time, eyes sparkling so that they'd give even the golden bird a run for its money. He gave Frost's hand one last squeeze, before letting go and standing up slowly, stretching his back.

"I'll let you get back to your business for now then. I'd say we've just made a deal." 

And as Santa was almost out of the chimney already, Ded Moroz whispered, to himself more than anybody else. "How do the humans say it again?" He hummed, shaking his head lightly before continuing. 

"It's a date."


End file.
